


Five Kisses

by V (deepsix)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, House M.D., Rome, due South
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-20
Updated: 2006-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/pseuds/V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten people, five kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for pearl_o's [five kisses](http://pearl-o.livejournal.com/676519.html) meme.

**1.**

Fraser's mouth was soft and wet and sweet, like he hadn't just spent the last ten minutes berating Ray for calling him out, like just moments ago he hadn't been describing in excruciating detail how much he didn't like Ray and his bullshit (not that Fraser had used that word) and would Ray just admit that he was wrong, sometimes, and maybe in fact the last thing they needed was to talk about it.

After all, maybe Fraser'd forgotten about that as soon as Ray kissed him, because even now Ray was forgetting pretty fast, because all that was a lot less interesting than the taste of Fraser's lips and the form of Fraser's tongue, and the way Fraser was holding onto his shoulders like he didn't want to admit that that's what he was doing.

And that was fine.

Because it wasn't like they weren't aiming for this anyway -- it just looked a lot different, having finally arrived.

**2.**

"You didn't have to do that," said Arthur. He wanted to wipe his mouth, but thought it might be rude, what with Ford still standing so close.

"Do what?" asked Ford.

"You didn't have to..." Arthur trailed off, and made an indeterminate gesture that might have indicated 'that', or might have indicated 'a general area just beyond one's peripheral vision'. "You didn't have to do that," he said again.

"Isn't it customary?" said Ford faintly.

"Customary for _what_?" asked Arthur, who could hear his voice getting shrill and who wanted to indulge it, but who, again, thought it might be rude, because Ford still hadn't moved.

"For expressing gratitude," said Ford.

"What!" Arthur said, then bit his tongue, because he was yelling, quite literally, in Ford's face. "No!" he yelled instead.

"Oh," said Ford. "What's is for, then?"

"What d'you _mean_, what's it for? You only do it when you like someone," Arthur said, and then added, quickly, "Which is why I said you didn't have to do it."

"Oh," said Ford again, and his expression cleared. Then his fingers tightened on Arthur's waist, and he leaned in and kissed him again.

**3.**

There was blood in Remus' mouth when Sirius kissed him. He could taste it swirling over his tongue and trickling down the back of his throat, tickling at his senses, and he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to press back against Sirius, and open his mouth, and let Sirius in. He didn't want Sirius to taste him, and know.

But Sirius pulled away, and Remus swallowed, trying to suck from the corners of his mouth the last remains of what must have happened. He looked at Sirius, who just looked back. The distance between him in his hospital bed and Sirius in his chair had never seemed so great.

Remus was still trying to wash away the tang of the blood when Sirius said, "I need to tell you something." Remus swallowed, but he couldn't taste anything.

**4.**

For someone with a reputation like his, Cameron thought, Wilson was having a hell of a time figuring out where to put his hands, how to tilt his head, how far away he should be standing. It was almost like he was nervous, but who was she but another in a casual and meaningless line of women? Who was she but a colleague? -- and he never seemed to have had a problem with that, either before or after anything happened.

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked finally, once he had leaned in and backed off enough times to become almost insulting. "Or is that my line?"

"Well," he said, and hesitated again. "You weren't the one with the control problem. It might make things easier."

She looked at him -- they were almost the same height, with her heels, and though it was only inches separating them, it seemed like she had to look up just to cover the distance. He wasn't even looking at her, the way a man should look at a woman he was about to kiss.

"I wonder what House would think," she said, "if he ever heard about this." Then she laid one palm flat on his cheek, and covered his mouth with her own.

**5.**

"I can't even see your face," said Lucius.

Titus reached across the blackness, and touched Lucius' cheek. Titus' fingers were rough and dry, like they had been scrubbed clean by sand and not water. It was -- strange, almost unwelcome: for although he knew the hand belonged to Pullo, he could not feel its connection.

"It wouldn't help any even if you could," Titus said. His voice was closer now; his mouth might have been no more than a hand's breadth away.

Lucius swallowed. He did not want this. He did not want to lean across the darkness and touch a shape that might be Titus Pullo, who might part his lips and sigh into his mouth; who might lick at his teeth and pull at his hair; who might share his breath, his sweat, his blood; who might move his body with him or against him, who might push or pull or both; who might have wanted this or not at all; who might say his name and shape it for his own, passing it between their lips like an unspoken secret.

Lucius did not want this, but it was past time to say it. Instead, he reached back, and Titus met him halfway.


End file.
